


No Take Backs

by weakzen



Series: Spare Key [1]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Dry Humping, F/M, Groping, Kissing, Play Fighting, Pre-Relationship, Slow Romance, Smoking, Surprises, Teasing, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakzen/pseuds/weakzen
Summary: Her offer affords him some fun advantages, Mason supposes.
Relationships: Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Series: Spare Key [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827463
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	No Take Backs

Mason leans over the walkway railing and takes a long drag from his third cigarette.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the familiar and all-too-brief sting that burns down his throat and explodes across his lungs. Smoke chokes him with overpowering and comforting acridness, blanketing his face in soft heat when he finally exhales.

But it's still not enough to cover the sickly sweetness of fresh-cut grass blasting through the air to coat his tongue.

Or to shield him from the scorching light melting his clothes into his skin. Or muffle the unrelenting, jumbled blare of air conditioners, lawnmowers, TVs, radios, and every other goddamned electronic object in the vicinity.

A piercing shriek from one of the kids playing nearby stabs into his ear and he flinches slightly.

Or that too.

Mason groans as a headache begins to rumble at his temples. He sucks down another long, deep drag and steadies himself against it the best he can. The fatigue makes it difficult. Annoyingly more difficult. Exhaustion weighs on him, subtle yet heavy, trapping his mind and his every little movement beneath a sense of sluggishness.

Though—at least it's starting to lessen somewhat, now that the sun is finally fucking setting.

He ashes his cigarette over the balcony with a flick of his thumb.

And at least it's not as boiling hot as it was earlier, he supposes. And summer's almost over, too.

Thank fuck.

But it'd be better if that storm would finally roll in to cool everything off.

He squints up at the cloudless and faintly hazy sky. Far above the town, the wind continues to whip in from the west. And every time it shifts to slice closer to the ground, he catches the scent of rain.

Sure is taking its fucking time getting here, though.

With a final drag, Mason pushes off the railing to crush his cigarette into the ashtray she'd placed on the windowsill by her door. The one she insisted he use if he 'absolutely _had_ to smoke here.' The one that she grinned over, then told him he needed to stop being a butthead, right before she snorted herself into a cackle at her own stupid pun while he stared at her and wondered why exactly he found her so attractive.

Shaking his head at the memory, Mason lights another cigarette and resumes his perch.

As he waits, the sun slinks closer to the trees. The kids scream endlessly. His headache builds and his cigarette burns shorter.

Obnoxious cawing bursts from somewhere behind the apartments too, joining the rest of the noise crushing in around him. Probably those birds she's always feeding.

Mason rolls his eyes and huffs out another cloud of smoke.

His eyes scan over to the parking lot, to that gleaming silver shitheap of hers, the low sun highlighting every scratch and painting every pockmarked dent in deep shadow.

Where the hell was she, anyway?

Frowning slightly, he glances back at her building, to the grassy courtyard below, the cracked sidewalk, the concrete stairs leading up to the second story, the chipped white railings that bend along the exterior walkways in front of a wall of red brick and a row of doors and windows. His gaze slows as it passes one window in particular.

That nosy fucker is watching him again through a slit in the blinds. He glares hard and directly into the eyes widening behind the glass.

The gap immediately snaps shut.

Mason chuckles a little as the fucker's heartbeat spikes.

Then his chuckle breaks into a loud laugh when he hears the panicked sound of a body crashing into a table.

He takes another drag on his cigarette, smirking as he shakes his head.

But… his amusement doesn't last. And when it finally fades, it just leaves him with a scowl and even more irritation than he felt before.

Where the fuck was she?

…And why was he even waiting for her?

If she couldn't be bothered to show up on time, then fuck it. Her loss. He isn't sticking around. Mason grabs his jacket from the railing, whips it over his shoulder, and strides toward the stairs.

He makes it halfway down them before the realization slams into him that something might have happened to her.

That could explain why she's late today.

His hand snaps out to catch the railing, jerking his movement to a sudden halt at the bottom of the steps. Annoyance twists uncomfortably in his chest, drawing his brow into a furrow when it briefly claws up into his throat.

And if something did happen to her, then it would be entirely on him.

Adam would never let him hear the end of it, just stern glares and disappointed frowns forever—and Mason doesn't even want to think about what Agent Black would do.

And… he doesn't want anything to happen to her, either.

She is one of them after all.

Annoyance still coiling inside him, Mason exhales deeply and almost flicks his cigarette away into the grass.

Then he groans even more deeply and runs back up the stairs to smash it into the ashtray before he takes off.

–o–

He traces her usual route home back to the station, but only finds the night shift volunteer at their desk and Officer Bobblehead in front of the copy machine, singing to herself while she dances to the rhythm of spewing paper.

Scoffing in disgust, he tries the Square next, staying only long enough to guarantee she isn't there before he immediately veers away from the nauseating confection, greasy food, and overwhelming wave of people. He lands at her boxing club after, where there's nothing but stale sweat, grunts, and the echoing cracks of fists hitting bags.

And when he sends her a text to ask where the hell she is, he receives no response.

Mason frowns heavily, annoyance clawing at his throat again as he runs his hand through his hair.

Then he pushes out of town, into the woods, up to the trail that she likes to run by the lake.

Branches whip by him in a blur of green. His feet trample ferns and bounce off moss-covered logs. The rich aroma of damp earth and organic decay invades his lungs as he opens his senses fully to the rustle of every leaf, animal, and insect. The forest howls with life, tearing into him with such a vicious, primal resonance that his body trembles beneath the sheer force of it.

But he pushes on. He cuts through the roar with focus sharpened for one thing only.

Until he finally catches it at the very edge of his hearing, soft and quiet beneath the screaming.

A familiar heartbeat that makes his own jolt in recognition.

Immediately, he turns and streaks toward it. It's calmer than its usual tense tempo, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything good.

He spurs on faster.

Blazing through gaps in the timber and sunken banks of mist.

Over tangled deadfall, slick boulders, and the wide creek he clears easily in a single bound.

Light begins to flicker between the trees. And Mason bursts through the edge of the forest, his momentum carrying him forward—but something even stronger slamming him back, forcing him to skid to a halt, one hand scraping a long trail through the dirt behind him.

Sunset bathes the lake in brilliant red as thousands of sparkles glitter across the water. A felled tree rests on the shore, its trunk worn smooth by time. And in the middle of it, she sits with her back to him, her arms spread out to her sides while her hair ignites like a flame in the light.

Something catches in his throat then.

Smoke, maybe. From that fire up north.

He clears it away and pushes himself up, wiping his hand on his pants. Then he folds his arms, a slow smile spreading across his face.

If there's one good thing about summer at-fucking-all, it's the sleeveless shirts and cropped tops.

His eyes draw over the muscled slope of her bare shoulders and arms, down the curve of her side, briefly dipping into the band of exposed skin above her jeans before sliding back out and around the swell of her ass, only to repeat the journey up the other side. Her hat ruins the effect somewhat, a big black circle silhouetted atop her head that blocks part of his view.

But, all in all…

Mason bites his lip. The image is almost enough to make him forget about how goddamn annoyed she's made him.

Almost.

He kicks a branch out of his way and strides towards her.

“Finally,” he barks out as he nears. “Could've let me know you were gonna be late tonight. Or texted me back.”

She gives him a lazy glance from over her shoulder, followed by an even lazier smile. Oversized sunglasses conceal her eyes.

“Turned my phone off,” she replies, then shrugs slightly. “And I didn't realize we were meeting, sunshine.”

Mason scoffs and stalks across the shifting jumble of rocks and splintered wood that pass for a beach. He tosses his jacket down and plops onto the log beside her, facing the other direction.

“Yeah, not like I don't come over every night to tuck you in when it's my turn to babysit,” he says, glaring at her from over his shoulder. “Some of us have a schedule to keep, sweetheart. Try to be a little more considerate.”

She only laughs, her head falling back with the motion while her tits bounce enticingly. Mason presses his lips together as he watches, his irritation crumbling away.

Just a bit.

“Oh, of course. I'm so sorry,” she says a moment later, her voice even huskier than normal with amusement. She rolls her head to the side to glance at him again, her smile broadening as she tugs her sunglasses down slightly, just enough to meet his eye. “I completely forgot all that smoking and brooding aren't gonna take care of themselves. Next time, I'll be sure to send a text.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs again, turning away as his own smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Apology accepted.”

She chuckles and bumps her shoulder into his.

As she pulls away, he follows, spreading his arms out behind himself too, until their shoulders press faintly together and his hand nearly touches her thigh. Heat rolls off her body—and excitement too, a skittering little thrill that prickles electrically across his skin to bury itself in his stomach. She gives no outward indication of it though, other than the smallest hitch in her breath and the gentle sigh that escapes her lips.

Mason smirks slowly, temptation urging him to lean even closer and draw his finger up her leg to put a deeper crack in that facade, but…

He finds himself more content to just leave her undisturbed, to let her keep relaxing into the moment.

…And to enjoy it himself.

Cool moisture drifts off the water behind him, but it flows over his back pleasantly, softened by the sunlight and her warmth. A lazy breeze presses through the air, brushing against his cheeks and ruffling his hair. He briefly catches the tang of rain on it again, before it disappears beneath her scent and the pines and the distant smoke of wildfires.

The forest rustles around them, and his gaze passes over it appreciatively before ambling up the mountains that cradle the lake. The craggy, purple behemoths tower into the sky above, their snow-capped peaks bathed molten orange in the sunset.

He closes his eyes to a vision of their afterimage.

Waves lap against the shore. Birdsong slows in the trees. Her heart beats in a steady, soothing rhythm with her breath.

And that's all he hears.

Even at the very edge of his senses, he can't detect any other people.

He sags slightly as tension he hadn't even realized he was carrying uncoils from around him.

For a long moment, there's just… peace.

And the world isn't scraping him raw.

–o–

He doesn't open his eyes again until some time later.

When she shivers against him and the pink glow of twilight surrounds them both, the first smattering of stars visible overhead.

Mason leans over to let his breath tickle hot along her neck. “Need me to warm you up?” he asks, teasing his lips against her ear.

Another shiver ripples across her body, and she turns to smirk at him.

“Eventually.”

She looks at him for a moment longer, her smirk softening into a quiet little smile, but he can't see anything more of it behind the sunglasses.

“Should probably get home before it gets too dark,” she adds, pushing up from the log.

He grunts in reluctant agreement.

As she stands, she raises her arms above her head to stretch, her joints cracking from the effort. His eyes follow her movement, roaming appreciatively once more along the lean lines of her body, slowly tracing around her familiar curves as he bites his lip. She picks up her ratty denim jacket from where she was sitting on it, shakes it out a few times, and slips it on.

Mason almost groans.

Then she slings her backpack over her shoulder and glances down at him. With a sigh, he pushes himself up to put on his own jacket and join her.

They walk alongside each other in silence, rocks crunching beneath their feet as they follow the dusty, packed trail that hugs the curve of the lake. Frogs croak from the water, joined by the chirp of crickets and the sharp chittering of bats overhead. A sliver of moon hangs in the darkening sky with them, while the air rapidly begins to cool below.

She pulls her jacket tighter and folds her arms.

Without looking, he lazily throws his arm over her shoulder and tugs her closer. A moment later, her arm circles around his waist, her hand slipping beneath his jacket to curl hot against his side.

His lips quirk in a faint smile as she shifts into him, her body heat bleeding through his clothes and into his skin. Her touch always pleases him, of course, but right now he's more grateful for the shared warmth.

Already, the cold slices him deeper. Sounds grow louder. His vision stretches further, into even sharper detail, while his limbs glide with powerful fluidity. And within it all, he feels far more alert and awake than he has all day, his body thrumming as nightfall gradually returns his strength and draws his senses to a heightened pitch.

…Which only makes it even worse when they finally reach the fork in the trail that breaks away towards the trees.

The little wooded path that cuts back into town.

A frown catches on Mason's lips. At least her apartment isn't far from there.

They turn to take it, eventually emerging onto an empty, dead end street.

The springy dirt of the forest floor blends into a blanket of windblown pine needles before yielding to crumbling asphalt that makes their footsteps snap echoes against the buildings. Electricity crackles in the power lines above, surging down to spool in the streetlights with a shrill whine, readying them to spill their ugly orange light everywhere. In the distance, dogs bark, children shriek, sprinklers sputter and hiss, and the din of heartbeats pound against each other, rising in volume, tangling around the tinny blare of electronics, fragmented conversations, grating laughter, shouting, arguments, screeching music and more abrasive noise than he can clearly identify until it all becomes a jagged and overwhelming roar that tears into him painfully.

Mason inhales and tenses against it reflexively, his jaw tightening—

But then Alex shifts closer into him, stroking his side with her hand briefly before giving him a soft squeeze, and all of it just… fades away.

Disappears beneath her touch and her quiet presence and her calming heartbeat.

His brow furrows deeply as something swells in his chest. Something strange and light and somewhat uncomfortable, if only because of its sudden appearance and unfamiliarity, but... it's not entirely unpleasant.

It's not unpleasant at all.

Frowning, Mason drags his hand back through his hair and exhales a quiet sigh.

The weird sensation lingers for a while, floating gently inside him as he uneasily enjoys it—until she suddenly turns sharply, and he nearly stumbles to keep in step with her. Annoyance jolts through him, a reprimand snapping hot and immediate to his tongue, but… then he realizes they've only arrived at her building.

And all she's done is lead them up the walkway toward it.

He frowns, his irritation fading as he blows out a breath.

Then his frown pulls even harder as she disentangles from him.

She shifts her backpack around to unzip the front pouch. And as she does, a black shape swoops down from the trees to land on the wire that stretches between the apartment and the utility poles.

The crow caws down at her.

She chuckles and holds her hands up, fingers extended and empty. “Don't have anything for you right now, bud.”

It caws obnoxiously a few more times, seeming to understand. Then it flies away with a piercing screech and an annoyed flap of wings.

Chuckling again, she shakes her head and pulls out her key ring. “Yeah, you're welcome, you little bastard.”

“Why the hell do you feed those things anyway?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as they continue up the sidewalk.

She shrugs. “Because they're smart and a little ridiculous? I dunno, they're fun to watch. I like them,” she says, then purses her lips. “Except for when they're cawing right outside my bedroom window at five in the morning, but… well, even that's a little funny too.”

His lip curls. “Ugh, if you say so.”

They head up the stairs to her door. She stops outside of it for a moment, then turns around to face him.

“You know… I do have something for _you_ , though.”

Mason immediately smirks.

“Yeah? I have something for you too, sweetheart.” He slides his hands over her hips, thumbs brushing over her bare skin, before he hooks his fingers into her belt loops and tugs her closer. “You want it in there—” he asks, his voice rumbling low as he skims his lips along the length of her neck to press a few quick kisses to her mouth “—or out here?”

Her heart beats faster as her lips move to keep kissing him, but then she just smiles against his mouth and breathes out a quiet little chuckle. “Probably in there,” she says, resting her hand on his arm, “but… let's take care of my thing first.”

He shrugs and gives her a parting kiss before he leans away, letting his fingers flick free of her belt loops. “If that's what you want.”

She glances at him for a moment longer, then inhales deeply and shifts her bag around to unzip the front pouch again. Her hand slips inside and returns with an unexpected object that she holds up between two fingers.

He raises an eyebrow.

“A key?”

“Yep.”

“To what?”

“My apartment.”

Mason tenses slightly, shifting his weight.

“Why the hell would I want that?”

“So you can let yourself in.”

He scoffs and glances away, running his hand back through his hair. “I don't need a key to do that, sweetheart.”

“Probably not,” she agrees, and he can hear the faint grin in her tone, “but it would help me out if you did. You're scaring the shit out of the neighbors with all of your skulking and your scowling and your glaring and your general… you-ness.”

A laugh bursts from him and he glances back to her. “I don't see how that's a problem.”

“Well, maybe not for you, but some of us still have to live here.” She huffs a stray hair out of her face and leans against the door, resting her foot against it too as she lets her bag slide to the ground. Then she folds her arms. “You know, I still can't believe no one has complained to the landlady about all of the smoking… and the noise.”

He smirks and chuckles again. “Sounds like I should keep scaring them so they don't.”

She cocks her head and fixes him with a look that not even her sunglasses can hide. His smirk widens.

“I like this building. I don't want to move. And I'm tired of you banging on the door every time it's locked until I come and answer.”

Mason angles himself towards her, licking his lips as he brings his arm up to rest on the door above her head. “Yet you still let me in _every_ , _single_ , _time_ ,” he drawls, his voice low and teasing as he grins at her.

She stares up at him. “Do it again and I won't.”

The telltale combination of reactions ping loudly and immediately against him—the nearly imperceptible crack in her voice, the subtle shift of tension in her stance, the faint and brief spike of her pulse.

He leans down toward her, his grin sharpening. She inhales slightly as he approaches, but holds her ground and his gaze. Pressing his face in close, he teases his lips up her neck again, to her ear, her head tilting to the side to allow it.

“You should know better than to lie to me of all people, sweetheart,” he whispers against her, his words brushing hot across her skin.

She inhales again, more sharply this time, as a shiver ripples down her body. Heat prickles across her face quickly after, and he lingers for a moment to savor it before pulling away to enjoy the view of her flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, well…” she begins, then huffs in that usual way she does whenever she rolls her eyes. “If I didn't answer, then you'd probably just creep around behind the building and start pounding on my bedroom window instead.”

“Probably,” he agrees. “That does sound like more fun, now that you mention it. Less of a walk for both of us, too.”

She groans a loud noise of exasperation, but the smile playing at the corner of her mouth undercuts it slightly.

Then, with a shake of her head, she pushes away from the door and holds the key up to him by the tip.

“Well—do you want it or not, sunshine?”

They stare at each other for a moment. But even with his vision, the only thing Mason can see clearly on her face is the faint movement of her eyelashes brushing against the twin reflections of him and the hand she's extending towards him.

He glances down at the key, and back up to her face.

“I don't need it.”

Her breathing stills for a moment and her lips press together slightly. Something rolls quietly through her chest to bump something uncomfortable into his.

But she inhales deeply and it's gone.

Then she simply shrugs.

“Okay,” she says, her voice unusually flat. And she slips the key into the front pocket of her jeans.

Alex turns away from him—

But his hands snap out to spin her back toward him.

Then they're pushing her hat from her head and her sunglasses up into her hair and curling around the back of her neck and her waist as he leans in to kiss her hard.

His mouth muffles the sound of her surprise, but not the way it reverberates against his skin—and not the heated rush of arousal that quickly follows as she kisses him back.

A moment later, her arms loop around his neck and he yanks her tighter against himself in response. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth while his fingers tangle into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. Her arms circle him tighter, squeezing, as she presses into him fully, standing up on the tips of her toes to reach him better, and he slides his palm across her lower back and down to her ass, where he squeezes too, lifting her slightly in encouragement.

She moans into his mouth—and he can't help but do the same in return as her desire crashes into his electrically and bursts pleasure across his body.

_Fuck_ , he wants her.

Mason pushes her against the door, her tits crushing to his chest, his cock grinding into her hips, and he presses his thigh between hers, dragging it upward to the sound of her gasping moan. He captures her lips again immediately, unrelenting, and kisses her deeply while he glides his hand over her bare stomach, across the hot and silky expanse of her skin, before he teases his fingers down the front of her pants.

He slides them in past her jeans, past the band of her underwear, until his fingertips and knuckles brush into soft, warm hair and press on a little further still. She sucks in a breath, her stomach rolling exquisitely beneath his touch as her hips rock forward to match it, grinding pleasure from his leg. He smiles against her mouth briefly before kissing her again, rolling his hips in time with her movement while his thumb dances circles around the button on her jeans. He lets her anticipation spiral with it, winding it tighter inside of her until she's ready to spring.

And when she is, he clutches the front of her jeans and pulls them up into her instead.

She arches against him, a moan tearing from her lips, her pleasure crackling white-hot between them and surging straight into his cock.

He inhales deeply in excitement, breathing hard against her lips, anticipation making his own limbs tremble faintly—but despite it, despite the alluring scent of her arousal on his tongue and how much he wants to stay, how much he fucking wants to push his fingers down even further and slide them back up inside of her, he forces them out of her pants instead, to leave her even more wanting. He teases them away across her waistband as she shakes with breathy, groaning laughter against him.

And then he clenches them hard around her hip when she catches his lip between her teeth and nips down.

Pain and pleasure singe fire across his body, burning free a guttural snarl that rips past his own teeth. He smirks sharply against her.

Then goes for the throat.

To that spot of hers they both enjoy so much.

As he moves his mouth mercilessly against her, as she moans and shudders beneath his teeth, as they grind together, her pleasure arcing into him on waves that amplify his own throbbing need, his fingers play against her stomach, teasing along her waistband once more.

Then he carefully slides two of them into her pocket.

And pulls out the key.

Mason doesn't understand why.

But he knows immediately what to do next.

He glides his hand down from her hair, his palm pressed flat and wide, fingers trailing over the bumps of her spine, past her thrumming heartbeat, dipping in to the curve of her back before finally settling on her ass. Once there, he grabs her again, groaning as he squeezes a firm handful of her, partially for pleasure, but mostly to shift her weight as he urges her hips forward. Chills ripple across her body as he continues kissing her neck, grazing her with his teeth, dragging his tongue across her pounding pulse and the intoxicating taste of her skin, until her nipples harden and dig into his chest wonderfully, and her fingers claw into his shoulders, and her thighs clench around his, and she moans so deeply into his ear that he knows she's focusing on nothing but him and the pleasure he's giving her in the moment.

Then—in one quick motion—he slips the key into the lock, turns it, and throws the door open.

A gasp tears from her lips as she falls backwards.

Her pulse spikes, surprise flashing with it as her hands scramble at his shoulders to keep hold. Her foot kicks up off the ground as she plummets, her body almost parallel to the floor before he snaps forward in a flash and whips his arms around her to catch her.

She stares up into his eyes as she jerks to a halt, gaze wide, cheeks flushed, arms clinging to him desperation while she breathes heavily and her heartbeat thunders against his chest.

He just smiles.

And holds her there for a long, enjoyable moment, taking in the stunning view of her knocked off balance in more than one way.

Then he pulls her back upright and against him.

She takes a deep, steadying breath, her hands sliding downward from around his neck to rest on his chest—right before her eyes suddenly snap to the door. He chuckles slightly, and reaches around her to tug the key from the lock, her gaze following his movement closely as he holds it up in front of her between two fingers.

“I guess it could come in handy for some things,” he says, smirking.

She raises an eyebrow and huffs a loose hair out of her face. “Guess so.”

Mason slips the key into the front pocket of his jeans.

Her eyebrow shoots up even further.

Still smirking, he bends to grab her things from the ground, then flings that hat of hers over the top of her head into the living room like a frisbee. She watches it fly by and immediately gives him a look that only makes him chuckle in response.

When he swings her backpack behind himself like he's about to do the same, she sighs deeply.

Then she grabs him by the front of his pants and yanks him inside.

Mason slams the door shut behind them, grinning widely as he tosses her bag away with a heavy thunk and presses himself against her again. Her jacket quickly follows the bag, and he groans appreciatively as he runs his hands over the soft and bare skin of her arms and sides. He grabs her waist, squeezing her slightly as he leans down to start kissing her again—but she only lets their lips brush together before she weaves her head away to fix him with another look, raising a pointed finger between them.

“One rule,” she says, pushing her fingertip firmly up against the bottom of his chin. “You better not smoke in here.”

He smirks and pulls her finger away.

“Can't make any promises, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow with dangerous intent—but a gleam of playfulness flickers in them too.

“Then give it back, asshole.”

“Make me,” he replies, his smirk slowly widening. “If you think you can.”

They stare at each other for a moment, amusement twitching at the corner of her mouth as tension builds between them.

“But I have some doubts about your capability,” he adds.

Her heartbeat spikes as her eyes flash wonderfully.

Then her hand whips toward his pocket, but he catches it and spins her around instead. He pins her wrists together against her stomach with one hand as he hooks his chin over her shoulder and holds her body tightly against his.

“Nope,” he growls into her ear, bending them both forward so he can grind his cock against her ass. “It's mine now.”

A frustrated noise rumbles low from her chest, vibrating into his. He chuckles deeply and starts kissing down her neck.

“Fuck you, sunshine,” she says, hissing her words through a laugh as she tilts her head to encourage him. “Give it back.”

“No,” he replies, smiling briefly against her before continuing his kisses. As he does, he roams his free hand down the front of her body, stopping along the way to grope her tits before moving onward to pry her fingers from around her keys. He tosses them away with a jangling clink. “And don't worry—” he murmurs, his voice dipping into a low and rich tone as he slides his hand down to cup the heat between her legs “—you'll be fucking me soon enough.”

Mason rolls his palm against her firmly, excitement swelling between them both as she sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“I promise,” he adds, then nips down sharply on her neck.

She yelps out a surprised moan and arches into him, her thrill of pleasure crackling hot across his skin to buzz euphorically inside of him. He inhales deeply and groans, her scent filling him too, as anticipation and sheer, overwhelming _want_ for her jolt straight into his cock.

He quickly scrambles his hand downward to tear at the laces tying their boots. Another one of her rules. Shoes off by the door.

The last fucking things keeping them here.

As he rips the knots free, as he reaches to peel his boots off and kick them away, she laughs quietly against him, shaking his body with her own while she squirms beneath him in less of less of a struggle and more of a sly, calculated grind. Her movement stokes pleasure as much as it puts him on guard—but not nearly as much as it pulls a broad smile across his face.

For a brief moment, that strange sensation returns, spreading softly across his chest.

And distracting him just enough for her to twist free from his grasp.

She bolts upright and her hand races toward his pocket again—but he recovers faster, swerving his hips so she lands somewhere _much_ better. In a flash, he grabs her by the ass and crushes her against him, trapping her hand between them both directly on top of his cock.

Mason smirks deeply.

“Find what you're looking for?”

Cheeks flushed, she flashes him an answering smirk before giving him a good, long, and very generous squeeze.

“Maybe.”

He can't help the groan that rumbles low in his throat, or the way his eyes shutter closed and his hips roll forward into the heat of her touch.

He also can't wait until his jeans are _finally_ fucking gone and there's no goddamn awful barrier between them.

She takes in his reaction through half-lidded eyes, a smile growing slowly on her lips. “I'll get it back eventually, you know.”

“I wouldn't count on it, sweetheart.”

And with enough said, he curls his hands under her ass and picks her up.

Her arms and legs wrap around him immediately, her lips finding his just as quickly too. She barely manages to pull her boots off with her feet, kicking them away to clatter down the hallway before they're both at the bed and he's leaning over to drop her onto the edge of the mattress. He takes only the time to rip free of his jacket before he presses himself against her again, kissing her deeply as her arms and legs lock around him once more. He remains halfway on the floor as their mouths move together, her tongue gliding hot against his, and his hands sliding across every part of her body he can reach, completely unwilling to move or break away from her at all, even as she fumbles at the hem of his shirt and tries to pull it off him.

Eventually, she succeeds.

And eventually, he moves away from her lips to kiss down her neck, down her chest, her stomach, groping his way along the entire time, until he guides his fingers to finally unfasten the button on her jeans. When he tugs her zipper down after, an idle question rolls across his mind.

One that asks if he can keep her waiting on the edge for as long as he waited outside her door earlier.

Mason smirks into her skin—and yanks her pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

Then he skims his mouth up her inner thigh, determined to find out.

–o–

Mason returns to the Warehouse around dawn the next morning, his patrol complete.

Shoulders hunched, he swipes his key card at the hidden door before he jams his hand back into his jeans and stalks inside. His other hand remains curled in his pocket, absently fiddling with the key nestled in his palm, spinning it slowly as his fingertips trace idle laps along the bumpy ridges and smooth metal warmed by his touch.

As he passes by the living room on his way to bed, he makes the mistake of glancing inside.

Felix catches his eye and immediately flips backwards off the sofa from his upside down perch. In a flash, he appears in the doorway, swaying off the frame under his own halted momentum.

“What exactly are you so pleased about?” he asks, grinning.

Mason pauses by the door, then shoots him a smirk.

“It was my turn to babysit. What do you think?”

Felix's eyes narrow as a wide and sly smile unfurls across his face. “I think there's more to it than just _that_.”

Mason rolls his eyes. “Think whatever you want.”

“Oh, I absolutely will,” he replies, his amber eyes gleaming.

Shaking his head, Mason continues down the hallway toward his room while Felix's gaze drills a hole in his back.

“Night,” he calls over his shoulder without looking, raising a hand to wave.

But not the one holding the key.

**Author's Note:**

> part 1 of 7


End file.
